(I’m a cashier at a popular craft store. I’m not officially a manager or lead, but I am often put in charge of the front end when it gets busy and the actual lead cashier is out. We have a new cashier, and while she’s learning quickly, there’s still the occasional question. She’s also an Iraqi immigrant, though she speaks perfect English.)

Cashier: “[My Name], can you please help?”

(I come over. The customer reads my name tag.)

Customer: “Oh, good! An American! You can ring me out!”

(I already realize what I’m getting into.)

Me: “[Cashier], what’s up?”

Cashier: “She said she didn’t want my terrorist hands touching her stuff, in case I planted a bomb.”

Customer: “Yes, she’s obviously trying to kill me! Ring me out and then get your manager to fire her!”

Me: “First, [Cashier] is not a terrorist in any way. Second, I will be calling the manager, but only to deal with you, because your behavior requires someone above my level.”

(I page the manager. She comes over and I explain the situation. She looks at the customer.)

Manager: “Is that true?”

Customer: “Yes! Fire them both!”

Manager: “[Cashier], did you have any plans to harm this woman or anyone else?”

Cashier: “What? No!”

Customer: “She’s lying!”

(My manager looks at the customer.)

Manager: “Leave. If you refuse, I will call the police and tell them you were trying to frame my employees as terrorists. I’m sure they’d love to hear your side.”

(The customer glares at us and runs out the door. My manager apologizes to the new cashier and insists that those kinds of things hardly happen.)

Cashier: “Oh, don’t worry too much. I saw too much s*** at home and dealt with a lot of it when I first moved here. If I let dumba**es like that get to me every time they were racist, I would have stopped at New York City and gone back home. Next, please!”

(I work in a tiny little craft store.)

Friend: “Hello, I’m looking for yarn for waulking. What do you have for that?”

Owner: “Ah, yes, you’ll need pure wool for that! It’s over here in this corner.” *shows selection, gives advice, and is very helpful*

Friend: “I’ll try this colour. How much is it?”

Owner: “Very pretty! That’s 500 kr.”

Friend: *hands over a 1000 kr bill*

Owner: *picks up a calculator, inputs “1000-500” to get the total*

Friend: “…”

Me: “…”

Owner: “All right, that’s 500 back.”

Friend: *stunned* “Thank you…”

A customer pays for her items and heads at a fast pace toward the door, but she’s left her items at the register.

Me: “Ma’am, you forgot your items!”

The store isn’t loud, and the registers are close to the doors, but she doesn’t seem to hear me.

Me: “Ma’am! Wait! You forgot your stuff!”

Without a glance back, she opens a door, steps through it, and carries on walking at a fast clip. I turn to the customers waiting in line.

Me: “Excuse me for just a moment.”

I grab the plastic shopping bag and jog after the woman. She keeps up her fast clip across the sidewalk and into the parking lot.

Me: “Ma’am! Wait! You’re walking off without your purchase! Excuse me! Lady with the red shirt!”

Other employees are sitting in front of the store on their cigarette breaks. They try to help.

Coworker #1: “Ma’am! Ma’am!”

Coworker #2: “Ma’am! You forgot your stuff!”

She doesn’t slow down or look back. She enters a van, which, funnily enough is facing the store. Despite this, she never looks straight out the windshield but instead looks down as she enters the car and turns on the engine. I wave, trying to get her attention, but she looks over her shoulder and reverses out of the parking space, still giving no sign she’s seen or heard us.

She is out of the parking lot in seconds, and I am left holding the shopping bag. As far as I know, she never came back for her purchase. I’ve never encountered anyone as oblivious as her, and I’ve rarely seen anyone move so fast! She spoke to me during the transaction and gave no indication she was deaf; our store also doesn’t collect donations or accept tips.

To this day, I have no idea what was going through that lady’s head.

(To get fabric cut, customers take a ticket with a number instead of waiting in a line.)

Me: “Number 38! I’d be happy to help number 38!”

(No one answers, so I use the phone system to send a page through the whole store.) 

Me: “We’re now helping 38 at the cut counter. 38 to the cut counter!”

(No response, so I wait for several seconds and then move on.)

Me: “Number 39!”

(A woman, who has been talking to friends, but is standing next to the phone I just paged from, turns to me.)

Woman: “Excuse you, what about 38?!”

Me: *already helping 39* “I’m sorry, I’ll put you in the line right after her. I called a couple of times and I didn’t hear you respond.”

Woman: “You don’t know what it’s like to be hard of hearing. You don’t know!”

(I help her as soon as I can, and she tells me three or four more times that I’d have better customer service if I could understand what it’s like to be hard of hearing. Eventually, I finish the cut, and she leaves.) 

Me: *turns silently to coworker*

Coworker: *wordlessly points to my visible hearing aids*

Coworker & Me: *dramatic fake shrugs*

(I work at a craft store that’s pushing their app. They advertise it in emails, texts, and mailed ads. A woman comes through my line looking annoyed.)

Customer: “I hate your app! I can’t log in for the coupons and you won’t send me any in the mail!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we—”

Customer: “And I don’t want email coupons! You send too many emails!

Me: “Okay, we have—”

Customer: “And I don’t want you having my phone number! That’s too personal!

Me: “Well, I can—”

Customer: “I’m going to go to [Competitor] from now on!”

(I finished checking her out without another word.)